


A High King

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Bandits & Outlaws, Canon Era, Chores, Confused Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Curses, Dragonlord Merlin (Merlin), Everyone Loves Merlin (Merlin), Good Morgana (Merlin), High King! Merlin, M/M, Magic Revealed, Protective Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28404075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: Morgana's bored of Merlin hiding from Arthur, and decides to take it upon herself to reveal the truth
Relationships: Gwaine/Merlin (Merlin), Gwen/Lancelot (Merlin), Merlin (Merlin) & Everyone, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 350





	1. Socks

‘Oh stop squirming, brother, I’m not going to kill you.’ Morgana smirked, letting the dagger linger on his cheek, before sitting back on the chair.

‘I prefer you gagged.’ She told him teasingly, briefly looking to the other Knights. She recognised some, but not all of them.

Guinevere was where she let her gaze rest. She’d made sure her once-friend was comfortable, hadn't chained her as tightly as she had the others. Gwen looked healthy, happy, and she certainly seemed devoted to Lancelot. Morgana looked between them, then looked back at her brother.

‘You thought I was dead, didn’t you?’ Morgana had promised her King she wouldn’t kill Arthur, that she wouldn’t harm a single hair on his body.

It didn’t mean she couldn’t wind him up.

‘Sister…’ Morgause warned, more inclined to obey their King than Morgana was.

‘Let me have my fun!’ Morgana pleaded, before going back to harassing those from Camelot.

Truthfully, this was more for their benefit than hers. Eventually, bored of the terrified looks she was getting, she reached out to remove Arthur’s gag.

‘If you don’t intend to kill us, what’s your objective?’ He hissed, looking desperately at the sword he’d lost, thrown across the other end of the Castle. She liked her new home, liked the way her King had upgraded it, and the dresses he bought for both his High Priestesses when he came to visit.

‘The King’s been moping recently,’ Morgana begun, looking back at her sister,

‘Probably because of Mordred.’ Morgause agreed, picking at her nails with the dagger usually by her side. It was so casual, yet so strangely terrifying, that Morgana found herself grinning.

‘So we thought we’d cheer him up. And how better, by bringing you here!’ Arthur was confused, but one of his Knights, the one that didn’t know, was looking thoughtful.

Morgana flicked her hand, loosening the gag enough for the gentle giant to speak.

‘Are… are you talking about Emrys?’ Her brother understood, now. He’d heard that name before, with the Druids he kept bringing to the Castle to check that Morgana truly was dead.

Surprise, she most definitely was not dead.

‘I am, Sir Knight. Emrys, our King,’ She looked back to her sister, then back to Arthur, ‘And someone who most definitely will appreciate our little gift.’

‘This won’t hurt you, Pendragon. We wouldn’t dare.’ Morgause assured him, moving over to the shimmering surface of the mirror. It contained the Magic she was about to use, a spell crafted beautifully, if she was bragging.

‘See, and realise what you’ve been missing.’ Morgause began to speak, the Old Religion being muttered across to the reflective surface, making it swirl and change shape as Morgana smirked at her brother.

‘It’s time you met Emrys.’

And with that, Morgana completed the spell, watching as a perfect image of Arthur’s Chambers formed.

**

‘Oh we don’t need you, Merlin, you stay here while we go and have fun!’ The Warlock grumbled, stooping down to pick up another sock.

‘I’m the King of Camelot, Merlin, I decide who gets to go on a picnic with the Knights and Gwen, while you stay behind and do these chores!’ He mocked Arthur, staring at the sock menacingly as he threw it towards the basket.

It missed.

‘It’s not like you’d want to come and relax, no, of course not. Never Merlin, he’s too busy cleaning up socks.’ Satisfied, he looked around the room for any more of the offending garments.

He found one, on top of Arthur’s wardrobe.

‘How did you even get it up there?’ He muttered aloud, jumping to try and reach it.

It worked, but it also brought with it the basket with clean linens, so Merlin ended up sprawled out on the floor with them covering him. He coughed up dust, snatching the sock, then frowned at the mess he’d made.

‘I swear, if Arthur even _mentions_ the mess, I’m quitting.’ It was a joke, of course. He placed the last sock in the laundry basket, picking up the items and moving out of the King’s Chambers.

It was a pleasant walk. People smiled at him, chatted to him about his day as he moved through the corridors.

‘Ah, Merlin!’ He smiled warmly to Sir Kay, inclining his head out of respect.

‘Sir Kay, how are you on this fine day?’ The Knight prattled on, clearly happy to be talking to _someone_ , which Merlin could understand. His arms began to ache, the basket really was heavy, but he remained still as the Knight finished his story about patrol.

‘Are you not with the King, today?’ Clearly not, he wanted to point out, but he held his tongue.

‘His Highness thought it best that I finish up my chores.’ Sir Kay eyed the basket, then nodded along.

‘I suppose I should let you get on your way!’ Merlin thanked him, hurrying onwards and sagging with relief when he made it round the corner.

‘Knights, they’re all the same.’ He huffed, before reaching the laundry room.

Luckily, he wasn’t too late, Sefa was still there.

‘Sefa.’ He sing-songed, moving across to where she was scrubbing at what looked to be one of Lady Morgana’s dresses.

‘I know, I know. I owe you.’ He placed the basket down, pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head.

‘I’ll take over apple-picking, if you’d like?’ He didn’t have to, Sefa owed him from last week, but the maid was run off her feet trying to do all the chores for Lady Morgana and Lady Guinevere.

‘Would you mind? Oh, thank you Merlin, you’re a saint.’

Well, when she put it like that…

Merlin left the laundry room, hurried towards the armoury. Most of the Knights were thankfully absent, apart from Sir Rodrick, one of Uther’s noble-born Knights.

He didn’t like Sir Rodrick, and Sir Rodrick did most definitely not like him.

‘Sir Knight.’ Merlin greeted, inclining his head, before moving to Arthur’s spare set of armour. The Knight didn’t reply, not until Merlin was graced with a hand coming down to his shoulder. Hard.

He turned slowly, keeping his head respectfully bowed. It didn’t do well to upset a Knight.

‘What are you doing here, boy?’

‘Polishing the King’s armour, Sir. I can take it somewhere else, if you’d prefer…’ He winced, narrowly avoided yelping as the thumb pressed into his collarbone.

‘The King’s not in Camelot.’ He leered, testing Merlin’s alibi.

‘He wanted me to get jobs done.’ Merlin shot back, forgetting his tongue for just a moment.

He really should have expected the backhand, winced as he tasted a slight tang of blood. The Knight looked slightly surprised that he’d hit him, took a step back, then sighed.

‘Take it elsewhere. And watch your tongue.’

‘Yes, Sir.’ Merlin provided, rolling his eyes as he collected up the heavy armour and carried it from the armoury.

It was a nice day to polish under the sun’s careful watch.

‘Why do you even need a set of spare armour? The other one’s always shining.’ Merlin pointed out, biting his tongue as he worked the metal to shine.

‘It’s not like you have four arms, Arthur.’ Pleased with his work, Merlin admired the glinting armour.

‘Four brain cells, maybe.’

The stables were his least favourite job. He grumbled under his breath, occasionally chatting away to Elma, one of the only horses left in this section.

‘And another thing,’ Elma munched on the hay, studying him curiously as he rolled his sleeves up, ‘I _know_ Arthur has stable boys to do this, I shouldn’t even be here!’ He shovelled another scoop of horse dung, glaring at it offensively.

‘It’ll be just his luck to get kidnapped. Or sold to bounty hunters. That would be amusing, actually.’ He pondered on the thought, before heaving up another scoop.

With it done, he looked to where Elma’s hay had emptied.

‘Brilliant.’

The apples were his next job, and Merlin really should have considered that some trees were just not meant to be climbed. He tripped, stumbled, then managed to end up almost falling from his perch, while the maids around him giggled.

‘Are you sure you don’t need help, Merlin?’ One of them called, a sweet girl named Isla. He finished the basket, climbing out and realising he probably had leaves in his hair.

It was better than horse dung.

‘I need a bath.’ He pouted, then quickly hurried away from the giggling maids. The last thing he needed was flirting, he got awfully tongue-tied around them.

‘Gwaine would know what to say.’ He told himself, then paused.

‘Gwaine’s probably already bedded them.’ That soured his stomach, slightly, but he didn’t really have time to worry.

‘Gaius!’ He barged into the room, watched Gaius jump, then quickly point to the door.

‘Shut it.’ He obeyed instantly, pushing something up behind it before looking across to where Gaius was sitting.

She was tiny. A child, barely four summers, pale as snow as she lay back on the cot.

‘What is it?’ He murmured, moving across carefully.

‘An infection. I’m afraid there’s little I can do.’ The wording was what struck him, Merlin looking down at the dark hair and the clammy skin, the laboured breathing.

‘What if…’

‘No, Merlin. She was brought in by Guinevere, who knows that this will be fatal.’

‘It’s Gwen. She won’t complain…’

‘I said no, Merlin. You mustn’t.’ Gaius then rose up from the bed, halting.

‘I suppose I should fetch her some more water. It might take me longer than usual.’

‘Because of your age.’ Merlin provided, keeping his expression neutral, even when he was smiling.

Gaius raised an eyebrow, but moved aside the chair and exited the room, leaving Merlin to look down to the girl.

‘It’s alright, you’re going to be just fine.’ He promised, reaching his hands out and settling them over her chest.

Healing spells weren’t easy. They took focus. One slip of the tongue, and he could end up doing more harm than good.

The words were whispered out, before he opened his eyes, watched the glow encase his hands and travel into the tiny body beneath.

It took a moment, before her breathing evened out, colour trickling back to her cheeks.

When her eyes weakly flicked open, Merlin beamed.

‘W’m I?’

‘You’re in the Physician’s Chambers. It’s alright, Gaius managed to administer some herbs.’ He soothed her gently, a hand in her hair as she tried to sit up, reaching for the water.

When Gaius returned, he said nothing, although Merlin didn’t miss the proud smile.

**

‘Oh no.’

‘I’m sorry! It was one sock, I didn’t… Oh Merlin, you must tell the King it was my fault! He’ll have you in the stocks for an age!’ Merlin looked to the pink shirt, then to Sefa, then back again.

‘It’ll be fine. Arthur won’t even notice.’ He lied, watching her doubtful expression.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course! Arthur’s not that observant.’ He collected the basket, thanked her, and made it to Arthur’s Chambers before he fished out the pink shirt.

‘He’s actually going to kill me.’ He muttered, eyeing it up before setting it down on the bed.

‘Hey, at least he’ll forget he’s angry about me sneaking out last week.’ That cheered him up, the pink shirt given pride of place on Arthur’s bed, before Merlin looked to the bath tub.

He really shouldn’t.

‘Oh, it’s so tempting.’ He muttered, before glancing to the door.

If he didn’t use his Magic, then maybe he’d feel less guilty?

Then again, he still had the dogs to walk, so with that in mind, Merlin regretfully abandoned the idea of a bath.

**

‘Yes you are, oh yes you are! Such a pretty puppy.’ His face was licked again, Merlin cooing over the dog before looking over to where George was standing.

‘The King doesn’t like you coddling them.’ George pointed out, while Merlin went back to comforting the fluffy beast.

‘When do I listen to Arthur?’ He pointed out, turning his attention to the mama dog. She was just as thankful for Merlin’s cuddles.

‘ _The King_ should be listened to.’ George corrected, before he paused.

‘Are you sneaking out of Camelot again this week?’ Merlin looked around briefly, before noting that nobody was close.

‘No. I managed to find those bandits that came after him.’

‘I didn’t miss the fact Sir Gwaine was also absent.’ Merlin blushed, recalled the fact that Gwaine had most definitely come with him.

It wasn’t Merlin’s fault that his type was rebellious Knights. Rule-breakers, like Gwaine, and like Arthur.

‘I needed an extra hand.’ He lied, while George rolled his eyes.

‘Did you get injured?’ This was crossing into territory that Merlin didn’t want to broach, not with George. He rose up, dusted down his clothes.

‘Why, plotting to steal my job?’ The other servant sighed, watching as he moved past him.

‘Nobody could take you from the King, Merlin.’

He ignored that statement.

**

‘He’s not back.’

‘Merlin, it’s only been…’

‘I should have followed him! What if he’s hurt? There could have been bandits, or bounty hunters, or sorcerers!’ He slumped down onto the bench, watching as Gaius narrowed his eyes.

‘Is he hurt?’

Merlin frowned, let his eyes flick shut for a moment, before opening them.

‘No. Not as far as I can tell.’

‘And Sir Gwaine?’ Merlin didn’t ask how his Uncle knew he’d extended his bond across to Gwaine, simply focused on the Magic, then sighed.

‘He’s also okay.’

‘Then there you go.’

‘But they should have been back. Gwen wouldn’t let them be late. Lancelot definitely wouldn’t let them be late.’ Gaius was trying to work, in all fairness. Merlin could see that, but with the fact his day had been filled with chores, combined with the fact that Arthur _still_ wasn’t back…

‘Perhaps you should simply wait for…’

‘I’m going after him.’ Gaius rolled his eyes, turning back to his herbs, while Merlin reached for his satchel.

‘Be safe!’

**

‘Idiotic, egotistical prat. Go on a picnic, he said. I’ll stay close to Camelot, he said.’ Merlin kicked a rock, following the tracks of the horses as he moved further into the woods.

A chirping told him what his companion thought.

‘I should leave him to rot.’

Another chirp.

‘I might get a day off, then.’

Aithusa nudged at his ankles, Merlin smiling down at his hatchling lovingly.

‘I know, sweetheart. We’ll find them. And I promise, I’ll introduce you to Gwaine soon.’ That cheered his hatchling up, the Dragon bouncing around like an excitable pup as they continued.

‘One day, you might even meet Arthur.’ His voice had taken on that wistful tone, knowing that he wanted to reveal his Magic to the King, but he couldn’t.

It just wasn’t the right time.

Aithusa had fallen silent, staring up at him with expressive eyes.

‘I know, buddy. But it isn’t time, Arthur can’t choose between me and the law… And I’d never leave. Not even if he banished me.’ That was true, Merlin wasn’t leaving Arthur.

‘If he lost the sword, I’m going to be angry.’ Merlin added, Aithusa puffing out smoke in agreement.

They both came to a halt quite suddenly, however, upon seeing the scene in front of them.

Arthur’s horse, Llamrei, munching happily on the grass at her feet. The others were there, with the picnic hamper still in place.

Riderless.

‘Llamrei?’ He called, the mare raising her head. He used a slight hint of Magic, rushed to her side to check her over for any injuries.

‘Where is he? Where’s Arthur?’ A horse, obviously, could not reply. But Llamrei could communicate, when Merlin pressed his head to her muzzle, sliding a hand up her jaw and focusing on the connection.

He didn’t see much, a blur of Arthur dismounting, insisting they head to the stream.

Merlin stepped back, partly because he knew now that Arthur hadn’t been taken from the horses. He’d gone to the stream, and Merlin could use that to track him.

The other part, however, was due to the fact he most definitely wasn’t alone.

**

‘What have we got here, boys?’ The man called, grinning at Merlin toothily. The Warlock rolled his eyes, ignoring the would-be bandits as he moved across to Gwaine’s horse, Pippin. She seemed unhurt, although slightly concerned by the Dragon hiding in the undergrowth.

‘You should give your elders some respect, boy.’ His voice had changed, threatening, and Merlin looked across.

‘Respect? Have you earned it?’ He snarked, untying each horse as he went.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ The man took a step forward, sword pointing quite threateningly at Merlin’s chest.

‘Sending the horses home.’ Merlin pointed out, flicking his gaze to Llamrei.

‘Straight home, Llamrei.’ He murmured, listened to the soft nicker that came as she understood the command.

‘Got quite the mouth on you, haven’t you?’ Gwaine and Arthur had said the same thing. The thought of both of them made Merlin smile, then quickly realise he shouldn’t be getting side-tracked.

He waved his hand onward, watched as Llamrei and the others bolted at his signal, avoiding the grips of the bandits.

When he looked back to them, they really didn’t look impressed.

‘That was my income, you brat.’ The sword moved, Merlin focusing on the handle as he let his Magic handle the threat.

It really wasn’t too difficult. There was eight of them, hardly a danger when he needed only to stretch his hand out, sending them back.

All save one, who he left conscious.

‘Where’s Arthur?’ It was unlikely that eight bandits had taken Arthur without evidence, but Merlin was panicking.

He always did, when Arthur was missing.

‘I… I’ve never met an Arthur, don’t know him, I swear!’ Merlin gripped his shirt, hauling him up and summoning a flame to his hand, drawing it closer to the man’s face.

‘Arthur. Where is he.’ He snarled, noting the utter fear.

Merlin sighed, knocking him unconscious and relinquishing the grip on the man.

Aithusa reappeared, conveniently, the moment the last one was unconscious.

‘When we find Arthur, I’m going to kill him.’ Merlin joked, Aithusa rumbling in agreement.

**

It really did take him slightly longer than it should have done to recognise the strain of Magic. He froze, reaching down to stare at the scrap of cloth, turning to show it to the Dragon.

‘It’s Morgana’s.’ Aithusa cocked his head to the side, clearly confused.

‘I bought her this dress.’ He informed the Dragon, who fell silent in understanding.

‘Morgana’s toying with me. Again.’ He huffed, straightening and looking down at Aithusa.

‘I bet this is because I said I wouldn’t sleep with her.’ Another chirp from his Dragon, while Merlin gasped.

‘Aithusa! That has nothing to do with Arthur.’ The Dragon snorted, setting fire to another plant, before pausing, looking up at Merlin.

The Warlock blushed, almost tripping over his own feet.

‘Or Gwaine.’ He stated firmly, following Morgana’s faint strain of Magic.


	2. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a small lil chapter to end it :)

‘I do love them, you know.’ Merlin gripped the fabric tighter, moving through the forest despite the fact that night had drawn in. Arthur should never have wandered so far from Camelot, although at least Merlin knew he was safe.

Aithusa looked across, clearly confused.

‘The High Priestesses. They didn’t _have_ to help me save Arthur.’ His Hatchling agreed, sticking close as Merlin summoned another orb of light to his hand, studying their surroundings.

‘Morgana just does this to wind me up.’ A chirping sound, the familiar presence of Aithusa inside his head. Kin, they could speak telepathically just as Merlin could with the Druids.

‘She wouldn’t actually hurt Arthur. Even if she doesn’t admit it, she cares for him just as much as I do.’ Maybe that was a lie, Aithusa certainly seemed to think so. A growl, teeth nipping at his ankle playfully.

‘A different type of love.’ He conceded, watching the hatchling strut around proudly.

He wasn’t ashamed of the fact he’d fallen in love with Arthur. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but it had, and Merlin didn’t bother trying to hide it.

His Magic, however… well. That still needed hiding.

‘Morgana’s in for a shock if she captured Gwaine.’ Merlin thought aloud, before laughing. He could see it now, Gwaine trying to play off the fact that he had one of Merlin’s enchantments around him.

No metal chain, no rope or fabric could bind him. If it did, Gwaine only had to _wish_ for the chains to vanish, and they would.

‘I hope he talks her to death. Saves me lecturing her.’ Aithusa had gone silent, stretching his wings slightly and lowering his snout to the floor, smoke rumbling into the clearing.

‘We’re here?’ He asked his kin, before the Dragon attempted to agree. It came out as a strangled sound, but Merlin understood.

‘Good. Wait here.’

**

Morgana was laughing. Well, for most of the time, she’d been laughing. Watching Arthur’s face as Merlin dealt with the socks, as he swanned around the Castle, it was perfect.

Seeing the Knight dare to lay a hand on him… Morgana’s Magic had burned brightly enough that she knew her eyes were golden, while her sister remained in better control. Still, Merlin did not lose his temper, continuing about his day.

The first time he used Magic, Arthur had fallen silent. No struggling, no attempts to spit out the gag, just staring in confusion.

Unwittingly, Merlin had revealed more than just his Magic. It may be obvious to most that Merlin was fond of Arthur, and the rebellious Knight at the back of the room, but clearly Arthur had no idea.

Not until Merlin had threatened the bandits, ready to kill if they’d dared to lay a hand on the King.

By the time Merlin mentioned Gwaine’s ability, the Knight had decided to use it. She watched, mostly intrigued, as the bands around his wrist melted away, the necklace that hung from his neck glowing as he did so.

‘Unexpected.’ Morgause remarked, fingers drifting to the knife at her belt.

‘Really? Have you _seen_ the way Merlin looks at him?’ Morgana pointed out, before glancing back to Sir Gwaine.

He shrugged, looking rather smug as he moved closer to the mirror.

By the time Merlin actually made it into the Castle, the one shrouded in protection spells, Arthur had decided to start struggling again. She watched, mostly in amusement, as he bit out threats (or what she hoped were threats) to the Knight perched on the edge of the table.

‘Morgana, where’s… Arthur!’ Merlin dived around her, completely bypassing both High Priestesses as he rushed to the King’s side, fingers going for the gag.

‘Are you hurt? Any injuries? What did I say about going so far from Camelot!’ Merlin protested, rambled, hands skirting down Arthur’s sides as he reached the chains.

He then froze, looking back to Morgana, presumably wanting her to undo the chains.

Instead, he spotted the mirror.

**

Merlin could see himself, looking at the mirror. But it was strange, because it wasn’t a correct image, and it was tainted with Seer magic. When he looked back to Arthur, the guilt in his stomach tightened.

The King wasn’t speaking, despite the lack of a gag.

‘Oh.’

He knew.

He remained on his knees, Arthur opposite him, the two silently staring at each other. The King looked confused, hurt, betrayed and a myriad of other emotions that he couldn’t hope to place. Slowly, daring to reach for the chains, Merlin let his Magic unbind them. Arthur blinked, rubbing his wrists, then met Merlin’s gaze.

‘Merlin.’

His name had been said hundreds of times, in so many different tones. This one was, without a doubt, the most terrifying. Arthur’s voice betrayed nothing, not a hint of what he was thinking as they waited.

‘Sire.’ Merlin answered.

If Arthur decided to reach for his sword, would Merlin stop him?

‘You turned my favourite shirt pink.’

He might have laughed. It was some form of sound, followed by Merlin pouncing, wrapping his arms around Arthur’s neck, uncaring if the King would shove him away.

He didn’t.

Arthur hugged him back, albeit carefully, before a steady clapping came from behind.

‘Very touching.’ Morgana teased him, as Merlin drew back from Arthur. He wasn’t crying, he swore he wasn’t, but it did feel nice when Gwaine slung an arm around his shoulders.

With the other chains falling apart, Lancelot grinning at him, before turning to his girlfriend, Merlin waited for any other reaction.

None came. Arthur was glaring at Gwaine’s hand, which was wandering along Merlin’s collarbone, while Morgause broke the connection on the mirror. Gwaine, ever eager to annoy the King, responded to Arthur’s glare by dropping his hand to Merlin’s hip.

The Warlock might have sucked in air sharply, leaning into the touch, before realising that Arthur’s eyes had darkened further. Something that would have to be raised later, perhaps.

‘I told you it was time.’ Morgana stuck her tongue out, something so very amusing, yet Merlin was still mildly annoyed at her snatching his King.

‘What part of _don’t go anywhere near Arthur_ was so hard to comprehend?’ He was joking, obviously, Maybe. When it came to Arthur, Merlin was quite protective.

Morgana’s smirk turned dangerous, hands picking up her skirts as she curtseyed carefully. Her eyes never left his, though, a sparkling green that he trusted, despite everything.

‘Sorry, my Lord.’ He went to protest, then wisely decided to stay quiet, looking back to Arthur.

Arthur, who just sighed.

‘Back to Camelot.’

‘Can I meet Aithusa now?’ Gwaine asked him, Merlin leading Gwaine out of the Castle towards his Hatchling. The Knights were quick to their side, chattering away while Gwen took his hand, beaming across at him.

Acceptance, in a way he’d never expected.

He didn’t miss the way Arthur paused in front of Morgana, thanking her quietly before he continued.

Merlin might have to thank her as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Idk bro


End file.
